my shoulders sag

04 December 2004 - 22:07

I can't go on like this. Agony rips me apart, I wanna die. Why can't I die? The ultimate quit, I think. Mother is being such a little pussy right now. Sniveling won't help you, woman. She is getting old. Some day soon, she will die. Then she will leave me forever, and I will begin to regret my harsh words to her. But not tonight. I am not sorry. I meant every word that I said, and every apology I did not say. She brings me down, she does. My shoulders sag. Suicidal dreams taunt my wretched brain, to soothe my tired shoulders. I think I will slit my wrists tonight, but not too deep. Only deep enough for me to feel the air, but not to where anyone will ever know that I wish to die. No, I will leave no scar, no trace, no me. Just a scratch, just a whim, just a trace. Just a tatoo of my sorrow, I need to get out, but can't get out. No one can know how tired I am right now. She thinks now that she made me think, but all she did was make me numb, make me angry, made me hate. Hate her, hate me, hate life but more so death 'cause I can't have it yet. My shoulders feel so heavy... my breath is so tired. My lungs hurt from breathing so much. But I cannot fall. I will not fall. I am too stone, too proud. Too much like her. And I will grow and drown in bitterness like she has, and I will be wrinkled with age and toil, and I will be miserable until the day I die. I will be stubborn like her. I will be a spineless pussy. And I will grow to say: "Now, only now that I am old and wasted, do I understand my mother. She was right all along. Youth does think everything is easy. I'm sorry, mommy." Yes. I will. Someday, I will. But not tonight.

previous - next